


To Crash, to Love and to Forget

by bear_cheers



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Airplane Crashes, Doctor!Kuroo, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Pilot!Tsukki, Switching, oikawa speaks french for some reason, only like 3 gay couples cause i didnt want too much gay, tiny town love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-07 08:58:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12229704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bear_cheers/pseuds/bear_cheers
Summary: Kei falls in a small town. And here, he falls in love.





	1. I. to crash (pt. 1)

Kenji opened the door to the small waiting room, his eyes on his phone and his lips in a pout. The conversation stopped; everybody was waiting for his usual happy cheers to light up the mood, regardless of the atmosphere or the people surrounding him. But it never came. Kenji just stood there, in the threshold, tapping away on the screen and oblivious to the expectant looks thrown at him.

“You gon’ say something or what?” Ryuunosuke said at last, lazily drawling out from the small coach he was sprawled upon.

“Where’s Kenma?” Kenji asked instead, finally raising his eyes and looking to the people gathered there. “I keep texting him but he doesn’t answer.” 

Morisuke scoffed from his left. He pulled the cigarette he was smoking away from his lips. "Hello to you too, Kenji.” The smoke curled in the air as he spoke. “Unfortunately, Kenma’s at the hospital.”

Kenji widened his eyes. “Wha-?”

“Stay calm, it’s nothing serious. Some idiot carpenter hammered his hand instead of the nail. He’s fine, but he can’t pilot today,” Morisuke continued, glancing then at Ryuunosuke with a smirk. “That’s why Ryuu here is taking his place.” He blew smoke again as Kenji slowly turned his head to glare at Ryuunosuke, the latter grinning widely and almost childishly. 

“I can’t fucking work with him!” Kenji sputtered after a moment, pointing with the phone at Ryuunosuke. “The guy’s an idiot!” 

“Oi, I’m here, ya know?!” Ryuunosuke rose, bulking up and walking toward Kenji with a so called scary face. 

And honestly, Kei found the scene amusing. Kenji, red-faced and angry, was flailing his hands frantically at Ryuunosuke, who was smirking coolly and kept annoying him further. He chuckled lowly and the sound made the two bickering men stop. 

“Guys,” he started, not looking at the ones in the room, but the ceiling, “we leave in ten. Get your shit together and let’s make this fly fast. I have a niece at home waiting for me.”

Kenji opened his mouth in awed shock and Kei supressed the smirk he felt tugging at his lips. Yes, he loved bragging about his adorable niece Yui, sue him. But everyone should know about the sweet strawberry-blond thing that was muttering and dreamily giggling away in her crib back in Tokyo, and Kei liked the surprised reactions he received.

Like these. 

Tadashi leaned over the sofa he was sitting on to pat his shoulder, smiling widely, and the smell of put-out cigarette filled the air, then three pairs of arms hugged him all at once. 

“Congrats to Aki and Madoka, Kei,” Ryuunosuke’s muffled voice came from his right, and Kei stiffly patted one of the guys’ shoulder.

“Thanks,” he cleared his throat, then glanced at Tadashi with eyes that said, Help me.

Tadashi nodded, a gentle smile on his face, then his captain voice made its appearance. “Time to go, cry-babies.” He rose from his chair and Kei was released from the group bear hug.

“Nobody was crying,” Morisuke laughed and took his bag off the ground, throwing his coat over a shoulder and heading for the door. 

“Uh,” Kenji started smugly, looking at Ryuunosuke, whose eyes had gotten wetter and redder. Before he could say something else, Kei placed a hand on his arm and lifted himself up.

“Let’s go, eh?” He gave him a look and Kenji shut up, following Morisuke and Tadashi out. Kei looked back at Ryuunosuke and saw him wipe at his eyes. 

“Take good care of her, okay, Kei?” he mumbled and Kei simply nodded – he knew Ryuunosuke got very emotional over the mention of family, as he missed his own a great deal more than others. 

Kei didn’t say anything else, but he waited for Ryuunosuke to take his things and walk first, then he closed the door to the empty room, walking alongside Ryuunosuke to a small hallway. The others were already there, looking appreciatively out a window, where a small LET L-410 was parked and ready for flight. A man Kei hadn’t noticed lead them through the familiar tire-tunnel, that was heated up and attached to the body of the plane. They all entered and placed their possessions in the back of the fuselage, settling afterwards in the cockpit to their respective places.

Tadashi was the captain, as always – his cool, quick thinking and steady hands had earned this title a long time ago – and Kei strapped himself in the co-captain chair, the buttons and screen starting to blink under his touch. Kenji, Morisuke and Ryuunosuke sat down in the passenger seats, but as soon as the plane took off, they’d start making sure the goods are well and keep everything under control. 

It was going to be a good flight. The weather looked good, no rains or winds announced, and they would fly smoothly over the high peaks of the Japanese Alps and Kei would arrive back in Tokyo, right in his small apartment, probably napping as soon as he got home. 

_Ah_ , he thought as he and Tadashi started manoeuvring the aircraft over to the railway, speeding up quickly, _I kinda miss home. I hope Aki’s doing well._

His head was pinned against the headrest as they rose suddenly in the air, his ears popped painfully, and then they were up in the sky. 

_'Dispatch here, you ok?’_

The radio came to life and Kei glanced over to Tadashi’s profile, partly covered by the headphones he had put on.

“We’re fine,” he replied shortly and grabbed the foamy steering wheel in front of him, calmly looking out at the blue, bright sky. “We’ll land in about three hours,” he said over his shoulder to the men that were getting up, and they nodded. 

Kei looked at the wide panel in front of him, all blinking lights and lit-up screens, and he felt his chest swell with pride. He was taken aback by Tadashi’s skills every time they flew together (which happened very frequently), because what kind of childhood friends would he be otherwise? He craned his neck and leant back against his seat, allowing himself to relax until he would have to take Tadashi’s place.

He heard the others rummage in the back and the continuous blinking of the radar, and he sighed. Planes felt like now like an odd, flying second home to him. 

*

“For how long have we been flying again?” Morisuke asked and tapped his fingers against the headrest of Kei’s seat.

Kei sighed. “Forty minutes, Morisuke. And no, we won’t stop for a cigarette break.”

He heard a groan from behind him, then Kenji’s voice stopped his upcoming protests, “Did I ever tell you guys about that episode on Supernatural where, like, four planes crashed after forty minutes of flying because of a demon?”

“It was three planes, you fake fan,” Ryuunosuke spat and Kei could almost feel the glare he had thrown Kenji. 

Kei heard the intake of air as Kenji was preparing the fire back, but Tadashi cut him short. “Kenji, please, we won’t crash. Supernatural exaggerates a lot – shut up, both of you, don’t even start. Also, even the title suggests that only, uh, supernatural things hap-“

“Oi, Tadashi!” Kei said sternly, his fingers already flying over warning blinking lights and screens. “Did we not take off with a full tank of fuel?” 

“We did,” Morisuke answered, looking over Kei’s shoulder. “Us three checked individually. Why, what’s happened?”

“We’re out of it,” Tadashi murmured and his brows furrowed. He started tapping on screens and turning buttons, glancing at the _Caution: low fuel_ warning every time he did so.

“We didn’t even fly that much! What the fuck?” Kenji said incredulously and Kei’s blood froze in his veins at the same time his fingers stopped over the buttons.

“Where’s the tank?” he asked through clenched teeth. Morisuke, Ryuunosuke and Kenji glanced at each other, perplexed. “Dammit, where was the tank when you checked it?!” 

“Uh, somewhere between the stabilizers and the elevator! W-Why?” Kenji sounded panicked, the words coming out stuttered.

“On the outside of the plane?” Tadashi snapped and turned his head to glare at the three men that sat frozen behind their seats. “Fuck, guys!”

“No, no, it was in a, a metal box! It wasn’t in plain sight!” Ryuunosuke jumped in and Kei sighed roughly, already feeling panic drip in his veins.

“Fuel tanks encased in metal boxes, you say?” He laughed bitterly and looked at Tadashi. “Tadashi, what kinda illegal plane is this?”

“It’s not illegal!” Tadashi said and kept tapping away. Nothing changed, lest for more lights blinking angrily and a sharp noise shrilling in the air repeatedly – the warning.

“It’s been out of use since the fucking ‘40s, Tadashi!” Kei almost screamed and he felt the others tense in fear. That meant they also knew what it meant – metal boxes couldn’t resist to such a great air pressure at over 25,000 feet up, and it was most surely either broken by then or completely shattered, leaving the fuel to literally fly our in plain air. “What do we do now?! Our damn fuel tank is probably falling right now or the fuel is leaking out like the plane’s a fucking unicorn on laxatives!” 

“Fuck,” Ryuunosuke whispered and then Kenji follower suit, louder, “Fuck!” Morisuke was silent beside Kei, his whole body stiff and his eyes roaming out the wide window, looking desperately at clouds that had gotten a shade darker than they were before. 

“We gotta land,” Kei told Tadashi, but found that said man was already pulling levers and manoeuvring handles. “But we’re going too fast, fuck. One-eighty knots–“

“Boys, to your seats! Emergency landing!” Tadashi said loudly, clearly over his shoulders and the men followed his orders, scrambling to their seats. He looked in control, his shoulders rigid and his face set in stone, but Kei could see the faint tremble in his hand as he raised it to bring the microphone closer to his mouth.  
“Dispatch, you there?” he asked in the mic, and as he waited for an answer, another screen lit up, one that read: _No spoilers_. Static radio noise came from the small station that was supposed to connect them to the control tower. 

“Ah, fuck,” Tadashi whispered as smoke started to fill the left side of the plane. “Nobody taught me this shit in Uni,” he said and Ryuunosuke piped up from the back: “Guys, I don’t wanna scare you, our spoiler kinda, uh, just flew by.”

“Shit, Tadashi, drop low now!” Kei said just as Tadashi gripped the steer wheel tight and pointed it downwards, but a sudden movement made the entire aircraft lean to the right.

Red, blinking lights came to life overhead and the loud alarm that was playing before started even louder. And the plane felt...lighter. 

“The wing! The fucking wing!” Kenji screamed and they all looked to the left, where a big chunk of the wing just flew by, leaving half of it hanging awkwardly and uselessly on the side of the aircraft.

“Is this even possible!” Morisuke said loudly over the alarms going off and the red lights illuminated his scared face. 

Tadashi didn’t answer and neither did Kei – without the spoilers, the plane was already losing altitude, but with one and a half wing left, the nose of the plane was pointed downwards and was dropping way too fast. Dark clouds were passing by them in a blur of grey – or rather, they were dropping through the clouds – and other alarms lit up with cautions of _Altitude drop_ and _Emergency air reserve activated_.

Tadashi was instead alternating between punching buttons furiously, manoeuvring the wheel and speaking in the mic uselessly: no answer was coming out of the radio. Kei felt as useless as Tadashi looked – what could you do in this situation, where the fast freefall of the plane was dictating their feelings and playing with their minds? _Nothing_ , Kei decided pointedly, but kept clicking away and turning buttons and ignoring the red lights. _It’s in vain_ , he thought as the plane kept falling, falling, as they all saw a wide, dark forest beneath them, growing bigger and more detailed with each passing second.

_Then why are you still trying?_

And he suddenly froze with his fingers curled over wires and buttons, his mind stopped to a halt and he heard the others – Kenji, Morisuke, Ryuunosuke, Tadashi – gasp, whimper or simply breathe over the loud alarms. He felt, more than saw, their shoulders sag and their eyes close – they had given up. And he had too, because the earth was suddenly too close and the air had become too hot too fast and a thought kept nagging away in his mind. 

_Why aren’t the wheels out? We won’t be able to land smoothly that way._

Hot, hot flames breathing up his legs and arms and sharp pains blooming on his skin woke his numbed mind up – the wheels weren’t out because they had already crashed. Who would have had time to press buttons carefully and handle the steering wheel patiently when the aircraft was falling and, before you knew, it already had its nose buried in hard ground?  
_Tadashi_ , Kei thought desperately. _Tadashi would have thought of that. Why didn’t he take out the wheels?_

He looked to his left and, through fire and smoke and broken glass, he saw Tadashi lying in his chair, his upper body slammed in the control panel, hands askew and blood starting to pool underneath his head. Kei froze and his mind refused to acknowledge what was happening. He glanced over his shoulder but saw nothing more than more smoke, smoke that was getting in his lungs and in his eyes and made him sick, dizzy, confused, made him panic and breathe faster. Warm, thick liquid was dripping on the side of his face and his head hurt – blood? Was that blood getting in his eye and staining his shirt? 

“This is blood,” he spoke to himself over the annoying alarms that had done nothing. Tadashi’s hair was damp with blood too. “And that’s fire.” He felt like a child that was being taught was a disaster looked like. Oh, God, that was fire. 

They were going to burn to death.

Suddenly, the smoke seemed too thick to breathe in and the fire was biting too painfully at his clothes and skin. Kei closed his eyes and the darkness felt much more like home than the awful sight before his very eyes. 

They wouldn’t be found. The flames would burn their bodies until they were nothing but ashes and the plane would be found later – too late. Rain started pounding on the metal of the plane and Kei found it humorously dark: they were caught in a cage of fire while rain was pouring down outside it. 

And he couldn’t care less about finding the key to open the doors. 

As he hung his head back, his only regret wasn’t giving up on trying to save his teammates, no, sir. It was not having a body when he died. He would be ashes soon enough. He would be thrown in the ocean or kept in a vase on a mantelpiece. Akiteru would probably have something of Tadashi or Kenji too, because who would he able to tell the difference between their burnt bodies? Maybe his right hand would end up in Morisuke’s grandparents’ house, or Ryuunosuke’s sister would cry over his leg.

Ah, and he had always wanted a grave. A nice, grey one, a simple stone with something short and plain engraved on it. Tsukishima Kei. Preferably 80 years old. Now he’d just have ashes scattered in the wind and no body to rot disgustingly in a wooden coffin.

_This sucks._

And then his world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: 10-41-am


	2. II. to meet

Kei woke up to light rain tapping on windows and fire warming up his side.

In his numbed down, sleepy state, he thought for a good five minutes that he was still in the plane. He struggled against soft blankets and tried to speak, but his throat was too dry to form words. His forehead felt heavy and wet and he feared the blood he’d seen before he passed out had dried there. He moved his fingers under the covers and it felt like –

Covers?

He opened one eye carefully – it felt much like peeling a Band-Aid, honestly – and glanced down at his body. He was covered by a fluffy, light-blue blanket and only his head was sticking out of the cocoon of warmth. His limbs were numb when he moved them and needles ran up his arms and legs in a nice, relieving pain. He moved his eyebrows up and down and found not only that he might have a headache, but also that a wet cloth was stuck to his forehead, as if he’d had a fever and had to be cooled down.

After a couple of minutes of enjoying the warmth of the fire and the blankets – he’d missed soft mattresses – he wiggled a hand from underneath the covers and took off the cloth from his forehead. He looked around the room as he sat up and leaned against the headboard of the brown wooden bed. The bedroom was nice, simple, not heavy on furniture, just the bed placed near a big, brick fireplace, a nightstand with a lamp on top and large, black wood wardrobe. The grey curtains were drawn, so Kei couldn’t tell if it was day or night, but by the time a carefully carved clock showed, it was a little past ten.

As he was squinting at a painting hung on the wall on his left – _where are my glasses, really?_ – the door to the room opened, so Kei squinted at the person that came in carrying a tray. The man, as it was, stopped once he saw Kei awake and then, through the fog that his sight had become, Kei managed to distinguish a smile on the other’s face.

“You’re awake. Good morning,” the stranger said quietly and politely, but the sound still seemed too loud for Kei’s ears. It was worse than when he’d gotten drunk for the first time and had a horrible hangover the next day. He grimaced. “Oh, I’m sorry, you must still not feel too well,” the man said and placed the tray on the nightstand beside the bed.

Kei merely nodded: he wasn’t trusting his voice not to crack just yet. The man passed him a glass of water and Kei took it, looking closely and observing that the person had bright...orange hair? He didn’t question anything, thirst getting the better of his attention, and he downed the glass in a matter of seconds. He held the glass in his hands afterwards and felt like throwing up. He pursed his lips.

“Tetsurou told me to give you this,” the man said then and took a rather big white pill from the tray, handing it to Kei. He took the glass out of his hands and filled it again, this time with a liquid that seemed to be chamomile tea. “Drink it with this.”

It was not chamomile tea.

As soon as Kei swallowed the pill, he wanted to spit it right back just to get rid of the horrible plastic taste on his buds. He dropped his head and closed his eyed in determination, not wanting to puke in front of a stranger. Great first impression, right?

Kei felt a small hand pat his shoulder unsurely and he looked up at the smudge of orange. “You can go back to sleep,” the man said softly. “You had a horrible accident and hurt yourself quite badly so you’d better rest.”

His voice sounded soothing with the cracking of the fire over it and Kei felt his eyelids heavy again, so he slid back down on the pillows. The man picked up the tray again and was ready to leave, but Kei’s rusty speech stopped him.

“What’s your name?” he barely croaked out through already sleepy lips.

“Hinata Shouyou,” was the answer, and the smile in his voice was obvious. “Rest well, Tsukishima-san.”

Kei pulled the covers up again and turned on one side, his back facing the fire. The memories were still too fresh for his taste and he could only pray he wouldn’t see Tadashi’s blood when he closed his eyes.

*

It was late noon when Kei woke up for good. He threw away the blankets covering his body and looked around, patting blindly on the nightstand for his glasses (he was sure he’d seen them before falling asleep). He eventually found them and he slid them on the bridge of his nose gratefully. The lenses were clean, a bit scratched in the usual places, and they fit as if the crash had never happened.

He didn’t know if he should find it alarming or reassuring.

He breathed in deeply as he sat up, feeling his chest heavy and throat dry. He placed his feet on the ground, wriggling his toes and enjoying the coolness of the floor through his wool socks. The fire had burnt down, only flickers of flame keeping the wood warm. The room was silent and so seemed the rest of the house/hospital Kei was in. He placed a hand flat on the nightstand and stood up on shaky legs.

He felt both light-headed and heavy at the same time, like his skull was full of cotton and pebbles. His spine cracked, his bones popped – for how long had he been laying in bed? From his knees down, he couldn’t really feel his legs. Although, when he raised on his tiptoes, they seemed to drag him down. He was wearing a pair of large, linen trousers, the kind you’d see in cliché romance movies by the beach. Beneath them, whenever the material would brush against his calves, the skin felt raw and tender and the touch stung. He wondered if he got burnt. Then he decided to see if there was someone to ask about his health and find out where on earth he was.

Kei started for the door with slow, tiny steps – he felt like a baby all over again. His room (or the room he woke up in) was warm and dark so he was expecting the rest of the building to be the same, maybe with more sunlight flooding through wide windows and onto white walls. The cold that enveloped his body and the grey light of rain took him by surprise and rose goosebumps over his skin. The room was at the end of a long, narrow hallway and a small window, framed by brown wood, was facing the heavy door.

 _It’s definitely someone’s house, not a hospital_ , Kei decided as soon as he saw framed pictures hung on the ecru walls, pictures of smiling people and landscapes of mountains or forests. He paced slowly down the hallway, taking his time looking at the photographs and noticing that almost every one of them showed a man with wild black hair and sometimes the Orange Boy from earlier. His feet halted to a stop when he could no longer feel the thin carpet underneath them and he peeled his eyes off the walls.

He looked at his right – a living room opened nicely and gave a beautiful view of a forest drenched in rain from behind a wall made entirely out of glass. Earthy, rich tones decorated the furniture, matching the dark bark of the trees. A large brown sofa was facing a small TV perched atop of a cabinet, which was surrounded by glass cases with shelves full of books. A reddish blanket was draped over the back of the sofa and Kei remembered just how cold he was. He stepped inside – the carpet was thick and soft through his woollen socks – and he took the blanket, throwing it over both his shoulders.

The room on the left was a kitchen, a very rustic-looking one, with light brown cupboards and a four-seat table placed near a window. Kei pulled the blanket tighter around his body as he felt an inviting warmth coming from the kitchen and he noticed a man standing by the stove, presumably heating something.

Kei squinted – the guy’s hair seemed familiar and, as he stepper closer and into the kitchen, it dawned on him that it was actually the man from the pictures in the hallway. Maybe even the owner of the house. Determined to thank him (and maybe interrogate – he still had no idea where he was), Kei cleared his throat and said, “Excuse me?”

The man whipped his head around so quickly it hurt _Kei_ and then a wide smile stretched over pale, pink lips. “You’re up! Good mor- uh, afternoon,” he started talking and turned around to fully face Kei. He leaned against the wooden counter and Kei noticed just how long his legs were. He had to awkwardly bend his knees in order to not bump his head against the cupboards, and Kei found it rather amusing.

“Want some tea?” The gravelly voice made Kei snap his eyes back up to the man’s face, where dark eyes were fixing him warmly. “It’s berries.” He turned back to the stove and switched it off, picking up a teapot carefully and placing it on the counter.

“What brand?” Kei asked and came closer, putting his hands on the back of a chair and holding his weight. He still felt weak and his head kept buzzing annoyingly. His mind was lagging.

The man grinned as he opened a cupboard and took two teacups and two saucers, starting then to pour the hot liquid. “Kuro Tetsurou,” he replied casually, not meeting Kei’s eyes and smirking down at the cups.

Kei frowned, “Never heard of that one.”

A loud laugh rung in the air. “I made it myself,” the man said then and stretched out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Kei stared at his hand for a while, not quite comprehending what the words meant. His mind was frayed and the only thing Kei did understand was that the tea may or may not be approved by the Ministry of Health. Then it hit him – is this the Tetsurou Orange Boy mentioned? – and he took his hand, shaking it with less force than he’d intended. His skin was warm, unlike Kei’s, and Kuro’s fingers curled around his palm, startling the blond slightly. He was ready to let go when Kuro’s hand circled his wrist and his hand was pulled forward, making Kei tumble over the chair in surprise.

“Oh, sorry,” Kuro said absentmindedly, turning Kei’s hand around so he could examine his palm with careful eyes. “Just wanna see if the stitches are still okay,” he mumbled and traced over Kei’s skin with a finger.

“What? Stitches?” Kei asked surprised and withdrew his hand, staring at his palm with wide eyes. Indeed, there was a thin blue thread sewed through a rather long piece of his skin, from the last knuckle of his middle finger and all the way across to his wrist. Kei touched it softly – it didn’t hurt, although the skin was red at the edges and making a quite disturbing contrast with the thread. He wanted to pull at it, to see if it hurt, but his hand was promptly slapped away when he picked at the stitches.

“Don’t touch it.” Kuro’s voice was stern and Kei looked up at dark eyes pining him from underneath black brows. He dropped both his hands to the seams of the blanket. The authority this guy was emanating was scary, but Kei would never admit it – not to himself, or to anyone else.

“Sorry,” Kei shrugged and fixed his eyes on his socks and the faded wood underneath them. He heard the tea being poured in the porcelain cups.

"Please excuse me,” Kuro said quietly and handed Kei a steaming teacup. “I tend to get all serious over my patients,” he gave a small laugh and sat on a chair, leaning one elbow on the table and then raking his fingers through his dark hair.

Kei followed suit, sitting on the chair closest to himself and holding the cup with both hands. He took a sip of the tea – it was sweet and a bit bitter, and it burnt his throat pleasantly. “Your patients?” he asked after he swallowed and felt the liquid warm up his empty stomach.

Kuro nodded and lifted his head from where it was resting against his hand. “I’m a doctor. I was assigned in this town...almost half a year ago and have been taking care of its lovely people ever since.”

"Assigned?” Kei decided to ask the first question from the river of questions that had begun to swarm in his mind – he’d rather understand who this man was and then find out how quickly he could leave this place and go back to his home.

Kuro gave a small noise of approval. “My hospital chose a handful of people to fly through the world and take care of people from random places so we could understand their situation better. That, and to expand our knowledge of treating them through traditional methods. Needless to say, so far I’ve been in quite some countries.” Kuro folded his forearms and leaned his head on them, hiding his face. “Haven’t been home in a couple years,” he mumbled and Kei felt a sudden surge of pity for the man. “This is just a host house.”

The silence that followed was tight and awkward.

“Where are we now?” Kei asked at last, speaking in the cup and fogging his glasses.

"Shirakawa.”

Silence again.

"Gifu Prefecture. It’s, like, a five-hour ride away from Tokyo,” Kuro explained, his face still buried in his arms.

“When can I go back? Home, I mean? Tokyo?” Kei asked quickly, the mention of Tokyo reminding him just how much he missed the city.

At this, Kuro raised his eyes and stared at Kei for a long time. Kei started feeling uncomfortable after a while, not liking being watched by such awed gaze, covered by thick eyelashes and glinting with questions.

“It’s November,” Kuro said slowly.

“Yes, which means Thanksgivings is soon and I gotta get to Tokyo by then. I’ve got family back there.” Kei raised a pale eyebrow.

Kuro sat up straight in his chair, his forehead creased and face amazed. “You don’t know?” In his tone was a silver of pity.

"Know what?” Kei snapped, beginning to feel annoyed and knowing a headache would follow soon.

Kuro dragged a hand down his face and it came to rest over his mouth. “Oh, God,” he murmured from behind his fingers. He then pushed his free hand in his hair, making it stick up even worse than before. “Uh,” he started and fidgeted with his bottom lip, catching it between his two middle fingers and twisting it. “Look,” he let go of his lip and folded his hands on the table. “Here, when it’s late autumn – basically winter – this town gets practically buried underneath the snow.”

Kuro eyed Kei warily and the latter felt panic building in his chest, but tried to squash it down with rationality. “So? I can very well take a car and drive. I may be a pilot, but I have a driving license,” he said a bit rudely, but he couldn’t care less at this point.

Kuro shook his head furiously, too strongly and for too long. “No, no,” he said and stopped his head motion. “The roads get stuck and nobody can leave or enter till springtime.” The last bit was quiet and Kei had to strain to hear it over the sound of rain that had started to fall again.

And then realisation dawned on him. He would he stuck here, in this forgotten city he’d never once heard of; he’d miss Thanksgivings and Christmas and New Years’ and maybe even Akiteru’s birthday just because the roads would be stuck? He wanted to scream. And the rain kept thumping on the roof and making it hard to –

Rain?

Kei whipped his head up at the ceiling and the motion made his vision go a bit slurry, but he paid it no mind. “It’s raining,” he hurried to tell Kuro, who looked up from his lap with hooded eyes. “I can go back to Tokyo if it’s raining, right? No roads are blocked or anything –“

“It’s not raining,” Kuro said quietly, dropping his eyes again.

Kei closed his mouth and squinted out the window in the kitchen, that gave view to the front porch of the house. Rain was falling quickly and heavily on the ground and on the roof, but the sound it made when it hit the wood was too loud. So Kei narrowed his eyes further and he gave a sigh that meant both disappointment, annoyance and his hung head said, _'I give up.’_

That wasn’t rain, indeed.

It was sleet.

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello, i hope you enjoy this new fic  
> i don't know how often i'll upload (though i have written the first three or four chapters already heh), but i'll try my best  
> please keep in mind i do not own the characters, all rights go to Haruichi Furudate and Production I.G  
> i am trying my best to be kind-of-accurate with the description of the place, the location, etc BUT i really have no idea if it is correct whatsoever, so please excuse mistakes if you happen to notice


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